#touch of frost

[eldritch-ace]

Y’all I think something is happening to me

[herbalnature]

The warm glow of sunset kisses the top of Devil's Tower, standing tall against a pastel sky. Below, a field of frost-touched grass adds a layer of tranquility to this serene landscape.

[weirdglassthing]

LOA Shiptober Day 4: How They Met

October content month was ambitious..

This one took me. Shockingly long. Whoops! I’ll probably end up jumping around the prompt list and it might extend into November 😋

I’ll try to do day 31 on the actual date of Halloween though 🫡

[temzias]

HUGS! sometimes you just need to hug your bros while you’re out saving the world

and a bonus:

[thatsnotbuddies]

that's a wrap! flyers 24-25

[dragonairice]

This is NOT what they meant by 'touch grass'

[yaralulu]

Can you imagine lucien opening the door to his manor only to find all his belongings from the spring court dumped on his doorstep essentially signifying that tamlin really doesn’t want him coming back and that any effort to reconcile their friendship is done and gone.What he doesn’t know is that tamlin is completely internalizing all the shitty things rhys said to him about deserving to be alone for the rest of his life and this is him accepting and believing that he really does deserve to be alone,that this is his punishment and he deserves it ☹️☹️☹️.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 29 - Frost

@wolfstarmicrofic December 29, word count 816

Previous part First part

He took a deep breath and unlocked the door at the top of the stairs that led to his flat. Flat was a generous name for it. Bedsit was probably more accurate. It was all one room, but he’d sectioned off where his bed sat with a collection of blankets he’d collected from charity shops and sewn together. He’d thought the giant picture of a grey tabby kitten on a hot pink background had been funny when he put it in the centre of the fabric divide, but now he felt ridiculous. He cringed inwardly. He could hardly hide it either. It was the first thing your eye was drawn to when you entered the place. 

He heard Sirius snort behind him. 

“Interesting decorating choices,” he said. Remus turned to look at him, but Sirius was only teasing; there was no judgment there—well, maybe a little. 

“Please, sit,” Remus told Sirius, waving his hand towards the bright green sofa he’d got off a guy from across the street who was moving out and hadn’t found anyone to buy it. It was horribly uncomfortable. Whoever had designed it clearly didn’t have a spine, or else it wouldn’t have been so bad to sit on. It did, however, fold flat into a single bed. Remus tended to drop it flat when he used it and piled his duvet and pillows behind him to lean on while he played Crash Bandicoot. He was on the lookout for a replacement, but sofas were damn expensive. 

Sirius sat down and gazed around the room, taking everything in while Remus flitted about tidying up. He’d left plates, chocolate wrappers and, to his absolute horror, a pair of socks on the coffee table. He snatched them up and threw everything in the kitchen area, bar the socks. They went in the hamper outside his minuscule bathroom. 

“What do you want to drink?” He asked, coming back to where Sirius was waiting patiently for him. “I have tea, coffee, water?” He said the last item with a smile stretching his lips, unable to keep a straight face. 

“Hmmm, actually, I’d kill for a cuppa. Black, no sugar. Please,” Sirius answered, wiggling on the sofa, trying to find a comfortable spot. Remus was a bit stunned. You didn’t find many people who drank tea like he did. It was a staple when he went out to remind everyone not to put milk in his drinks. They got it right about half the time. 

He came back with two steaming cups of tea and a plate of chocolate hobnobs. Sirius reached out and grabbed one. 

“I’m liking you more and more Remus,” Sirius beamed at him as he bit into the chocolate-oaty biscuit “Although. I’m sorry Remus, but is there something wrong with your sofa?” He complained, cracking his shoulders as he stretched his back. 

“Erm, yeah, sorry, it's shit. It was free. Here, hop up, and I’ll put it how I normally have it.” Sirius obediently got up, and Remus quickly dropped the sofa flat. He walked behind the blanket curtain and grabbed everything off his bed, making sure there weren’t any pants hidden in them, and plopped them down onto the sofa bed. He manoeuvred his pillows and duvet until he’d made a little backrest for them both. Sirius just stared at him when he was done. 

“Is this your idea of getting me into your bed?” Sirius asked, the corners of his lips twitching as he tried to hold in his laughter. Remus blushed beet-red. 

“Oh—er—no, I swear—I…” Sirius clapped him on the back and got onto the makeshift seating. He shuffled until he was comfortable and looked up at Remus expectantly. Remus didn’t know what else to do but sit down and turn the TV on.

He couldn’t remember what he’d been watching, but when he turned the DVD player on, the beginning of an episode of A Touch of Frost was playing. 

“Are you watching Frost?” 

“Er yeah, the entire box set was in the charity shop down the road for a fiver and I couldn’t pass up the bargain. I don’t have a TV licence, so I just watch DVDs…” He petered out. He didn’t know why he kept oversharing. Sirius didn’t need to know all this. “I have loads of movies and stuff if you want to pick one?” Sirius turned to him with his mouth aghast. 

“Are you mental? Don’t you dare turn Frost off,” And just to make sure Remus didn’t, Sirius snatched the remote out of his hand and put it out of his reach. Remus was slightly taken aback, but when he sat back and Sirius moved so he was pressed up against Remus, he forgot to care, and they watched a few episodes of A Touch of Frost while they drank their tea and munched their way through the biscuits.  

Next part

[jewishcissiekj]

Physical touch is used in abundance Exceptional X-Men to indicate closeness and reaching out to someone. As Trista, Thao, and Alex grow closer, they also stay in touch, literally. Emma and Kitty looove putting their hands on the kids' shoulders to console and support them. Carnero's art gives it this kind of realness that is great to see, it feels natural and true. (panels used in this post are from all throughout Exceptional X-Men #1-9)

And then there is Emma and Kitty's relationship with each other. In issue 3, Kitty attacks Emma physically first, and when Emma uses her TK, Kitty tells her to fight her for real (or leave the kids alone), and puts her in a chokehold.

In issue 6, when the kids are talking about how they don't want to be dependant on Emma, Kitty touches Emma's shoulder. Later in issue 6, when Alex is confronting Kitty and Emma, Emma has her hand on Kitty's shoulder and tells her to take a breath.

Kitty and Emma stand closely A BUNCH through the issues, and neither of them is hesitant to use physical touch as a show of affection (toward the kids, Bobby, and Nina).

When they're talking and arguing with each other, there's always this space between them, but when they're standing as one unit in front of the kids/Bobby, they're closer.

Kitty touches Emma when she needs to get through to her, and Emma touches Kitty when she's clearly in distress. We see that for Emma again in issue 9, when she has to snap Kitty out of her shock. But it's much more intimate then. It's not a shoulder touch, and she isn't shaking her out of it. She has her hand on her chin, and while she's trying to help her, she's also scolding her. I can't stop thinking about it.

There's another touching moment (ha) in issue 9 where Kitty, Emma, and Bobby are holding hands to go through a wall. But Emma is the one holding Bobby's hand. Kitty is only holding Emma's. which could mean nothing.

[froggychair05]

It’s my birthday :)

[ouaw-facts-i-just-made-up]

Frost is sensory avoidant, whilst Gricko and Gideon are often sensory seeking. Torbek and Kremy depend on the sensory type and the time and place, Kremy preferring visual stimuli and tastes, Torbek preferring physical touch based stimuli

Frost uses his clothing like a barrier for sensory input, and so does Kremy to a certain extent.

[mistmarigold]

Can we talk about how one of Wen Yifan’s love languages is definitely physical touch? Words of affirmation, acts of service both are her love languages (in receiving) but I also think about how these two kind of arises from her traumatic experiences / abandonment issues more than anything else.

While physical touch is def her love language when it comes to giving - only to Sangyan and her bestie. Every instance of sleepwalking and her being drunk leads to her touching him in whatever way she can (SY’s body being free real estate joke is real). Like just look at the amount of times she touches his face while being drunk??? Over and over again, she’s just doing it and it’s so so endearing to me especially given how averse she is to people touching her (except Sangyan and her bestie).

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 6

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 971

Written: 21st December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Masterlist AO3

Sylus' body is an inferno. He's well used to running hotter than most. It's just another part of who he is, that doesn't occur to him the majority of the time.

The first few times you'd shared a bed, you'd wriggled out of his grasp, sweating and uncomfortable. Had he had less control over himself, he'd have pouted. (You probably didn't miss the furrow in his brow though.)

So he'd slept wearing as little as possible.

Still too much, waking up in the middle of his sleep schedule to find you across the bed, covers thrown off to cool down. Shedding your discomfort.

Next he'd taken to pulling your clothes off. Always a delight, this time a driven aim. It had worked somewhat, you'd wrapped yourself into his embrace and tangled around him, seeking out the heat of his body like he was your personal pillow.

It lasted longer, but still he was awoken by you edging away, seeking the chill of a turned over pillow and the outside of the duvet.

He'd changed the type of bedding he used, bought you new bedding.

You'd told him to stop worrying, to stop paying expenses, sometimes it was just too warm.

Sylus was sure at that he'd grumbled like a child. He wanted to hold you, and he wanted to wake up with you in his arms.

Everytime you moved out of his reach, he itched and ached like scales growing through raw skin. It was one of the few times he envied the doctor, he never seemed to have trouble with keeping you clinging throughout your slumber.

Eventually he had two things fitted, a ceiling fan and air conditioning. The change to temperature meant so little to him, unbothered by heat or cold. When you'd seen them on your next visit, you'd been incredulous. Since when did he need either of these?

He didn't answer that he needed them for you, for him, he just made an offhand comment about the best, and preparation for the future. (The immediate future. His sleep quality.)

His relief that day when he'd woken up, your head under his chin, legs tangled with his, and arms around him. Seeking out his skin against yours.

The second you left the bed, however, you'd complained for the chill. He left the remote for the new tools of his victory, in your hands, but he had gleefully held you as long as he could, chin on shoulder and hands dancing across cool skin.

Your week off has allowed him to experience that for a few days now, he's using your sleep pattern for the week, though there is no real track of time in the sky of the N109 Zone. He doesn't want to make your return to work difficult.

As he wakes, this morning you have stayed asleep, catching up on long hours. Your back is pressed to his chest and you're holding onto his arm. He won't tease you about the drool out the corner of your mouth, but he files away the image for himself. Tickled and endeared.

He doesn't want to wake you, you're so peaceful... but he can't stop himself from pulling as close as he can. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, and breathing you in.

You smell like his last meal in every life. Like he could bite down and die happy, your blood in his mouth and your soul in his chest.

If he were a weaker man, perhaps he'd drool as well, salivating and starving.

He certainly feels starved when he cannot keep you close, desperate and dogged.

You'd teased him that he reminds you of a wolf, and he thinks that's more accurate than he likes. He would bite your hand lovingly, but tear and snarl at your command, if that's what you wanted from him.

Sylus wants to get up, if he can get breakfast ready, he can see your eyes light up. Hand you a mug of coffee, that turns his nose, in bed. So you'll kiss his cheek and sigh happily.

He feels satisfaction when he sees you happy because of him. Yet...

Pressed against you, your chest moving with each breath. So alive, and warm and his. You trust him to guard you, to kiss your neck when the scent drives him to madness, to keep you warm against the cold. He once mused that you still took his hand despite how dangerous he was, and every day he marvels more at how you continue to do so.

Now when you take his hand, you place a kiss on his knuckles. That if he had no healing ability, would be scarred and torn and ruinous. He thinks, that even if that were the case... you would still kiss them tender and raw.

You had always seen something in him that no one else did. Flowers suiting his soul, a smile worthy of his face, love belonging in his hands.

He feels sick with the feeling, overflowing from where joined hearts beat in his chest, but it's a sickness he would never wish to heal himself of. Peace found despite how little he probably deserves it.

Sylus is selfish though. A fragment, a taste, a burst of you had not been enough. Millennia's will not be enough. Until the end of the world itself he will never think this is enough.

No matter his sullied hands, or the actions he has made, some of which he would not apologise for, he will never relinquish his treasure.

His Soul.

You who owns his heart for eternity.

As he bites down at your shoulder, stirring your sleep, and laves with his tongue to your sleepy pleasure, he settles for a taste of the cure to his hunger, that he plans to draw out forever.

[kiwi-koala]

Day 24 Januarty sweet. Better late than never. Peach making her classic cake from Mario 64. Also mips gets to be there because according to the Japanese manual he’s peaches pet rabbit.

[zalgoid]

Thinking about these freaks again (its terminal)

[saltyowlets]

When your crush looks like she can lift you even though she is a 5'2" elven mage.